


Tumblr Prompts: Supernatural

by wibblywobblymess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:28:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblywobblymess/pseuds/wibblywobblymess
Summary: Supernatural drabbles frommy Tumblr.Each chapter is a different drabble.This work will be listed as COMPLETE, but I will add a new chapter when I write a new drabble.





	1. Chapter 1

**Requested by anonymous.**

 

               It took three days, four close calls, and several  _come hither_  looks to get Dean to finally let you help him and Sam go after the monster, that had a name you just couldn’t pronounce. Which you figured was appropriate now, considering the  _monster was in your fucking house_. It wasn’t as though you were going to just let that one go without helping in any way.

               And it wasn’t hard to flirt with Dean, considering you were pretty sure he started flirting with you the second you met him, not to mention the fact that he was  _fucking gorgeous_.

               You leaned back in the backseat of the Impala, enjoying the hum of the engine as Dean drove the three of you to the woods, and as much as you enjoyed it, you shimmied forward, leaning against the seat between them.

“This is nice, but, do you usually drive in silence?” Dean flinched, not realizing you were going to be right there, and huffed, glancing at you in the mirror.

“Are you kidding?” Sam asked before Dean could answer. “This guy practically sings in his sleep.”

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do, Dean,” Sam argued. “Typically, no, he’s got something blasting.” You snickered, and nudged Dean’s shoulder, point.

“Then blast something.” He quirked a brow, glancing at you again.

“Well, I don’t wanna pl-“ You groaned, shoving Dean again. “Ey! What?”

“Look, we went over this. If you treat me like I’m weak, I’m going to assault you. And as fun as that sounds, I don’t know that it’s a good idea. So just…hit play, bitch.”

               The brothers looked at each other, surprised, and Dean laughed as he shoved a cassette into the player, blasting AC/DC. You hummed happily, and leaned back in the seat once more, squeezing his shoulder as you did, singing along quietly in the backseat.

               Before long, the three of you were in the woods, and the boys were grunting, hauling the body out of the trunk, as you led them through the trees.

“You know what? This is fun!”

“…Seriously, we’re trying to hide a body,” Dean replied, shaking his head, as you turned your head to see him, shrugging.

“I told you I am not delicate. I am weird. So yeah, I don’t care that we’re hiding a body? I’m having fun.” Sam grunted, as he and Dead stopped, and dropped the body into the leaves and dirt, before Dean wiped his hands down his legs, and huffed, looking over at you.

“Alright, alright, Miss Not Delicate. Unless you plan to help us dig the hole to hide this thing, we’re gonna send you back to the car.” You narrowed your eyes at him, and pointed, something he could see even in the shadows and the dark of the trees.

“You will only do that if you want to lose that car,” you threatened, before you pulled the shovel off your back, and slammed it into the dirt to start digging.


	2. Dean x Reader - “A little gasoline…blowtorch…no problem.”

**Requested by anon**

 

               Ghosts were easy. Ghosts were  _always easy_. Salt. Gas. Match. Boom. Done.

               This one…was a little more difficult, considering this ghost came with very much alive baggage who refused to sit by the sidelines. Baggage in the form of a very stubborn, but very danger-happy, human that sort of got Dean all warmed up.

               You couldn’t argue that, he got you warmed up too, but you were distracted with the ghost, and refusing to let them try to find reasonable explanations for what was happening. You were smart, and aware, and while you probably would call people crazy over things like vampires and werewolves, ghosts were easier to believe, and not just because you were being haunted by one.

               After three days trying to nail down who the hell the ghost was, Dean took you with him to the cemetery (like he had a choice, you barely left his side).

“This is normal?”

“Oh yeah. Ghosts are common, easy enough to get rid of…I mean, hard work, but, easy enough.”

“Okay, so what do we do?” He stared at you, tempted to argue, until he recalled the past few days of nothing but until he had to bend because you wouldn’t, and sighed.

“Dig ‘em up, salt the body, cover the body in gas, drop in a match.”

“…gross, but okay. I can do that. Digging ain’t easy.” He scoffed, knowing that one so very well, as he turned into the cemetery.

               It took hours before the grave was open, and the casket was open, too, and you sighed, wiping your arm across your forehead as Dean helped you out of the hole. The both of you moved to the car, digging around in the trunk, before you frowned.

“Uh…so…what do you when you don’t have a match?” you asked, and for a moment, you watched him pat his pockets, scowling, before he sighed, and shrugged.

“Alright. A little gasoline…blowtorch…no problem,” he answered, grabbing the torch out of the trunk.

“You…carry a blowtorch in the trunk. I shouldn’t be surprised, we’re burning a corpse, but…still.” Dean snickered, and handing it over to you as he grabbed the gas, and the salt.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Y/N.”


	3. Dean + "I was trying to protect you."

 

               Baby had barely gone quiet when you shoved the back door open, and slammed it shut, ignoring the offended shouts from Dean and Sam as you stormed back into the bunker. The swears puffing out of your mouth, under your breath, they weren’t as quiet as you had expected them to be, when Dean’s voice came down the hall after you.

“ _I can still hear you, and I am not any of those things!_ ”

“You are right now, Winchester!” you shouted back, nearly kicking open the door to your room as you stormed in.

               Dean growled down the hall, jogging after you, and shoved at the door to follow you in. The sound of him behind you made you spin on your heels, fire in your eyes.

“ _No_ , Winchester. I want you  _out_.”

“No. Look, I was trying to protect you!” he exclaimed, as you stepped up and shoved him, hard, towards the hall.

“No! You were trying to  _do this on your own_! So fine! Get out, and do this shit  _on your own_ ,” you snapped, shoving him again before slamming the door in his face and hitting the lock.

               He kept hollering, but with the door locked, and being unwilling to break the door down, he just pounded on it until you turned your music on, when he grumbled, and stormed off.

               It was…uncomfortable. The anger seeped into walls as you stayed locked away, even after you shut off your music, as Dean busied himself in the kitchen. You could smell the food, though, and you were  _starving_ , so finally, with a heavy sigh, you let yourself out of your room, quietly moving to the kitchen, and hesitating in the doorway to watch Dean pad out a couple of burgers.

“Thought you wanted me to do this on my own.” You huffed.

“Dean. It was a  _ghost_. I didn’t need protecting from a  _ghost_. I got that in my sleep.” He shook his head, but didn’t answer, dropping the patties onto the grill top. You hated being mad at Dean, you really did, so with a groan, and a stomp of your foot, you crossed, and slammed into his back, arms wrapping around his waist to flatten on his stomach.

“What’re you doin’, Y/N?” he asked, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded like he was fighting a smile.

“Ghosts, I don’t need protecting from. Literally  _everything else_  we hunt, I do. I just need you to  _trust_  that.”

“…look…I know you’re good at this, alright? I was trying to pro-“

“I know. And I’m sorry I…called you a lot of terrible things.” Dean snorted. “I think I even made a few up.”

“I was going to ask about it, but, you like your mystery.” You laughed into his back, sighing a bit.

“Thank you. For protecting me.” He smiled, twisting to hook his arm around your head to pull you into his side.

“Every goddamn day.”


	4. Dean x Reader + “You look pretty hot in plaid.”

The bar was not as loud as it usually was. It was something you were particularly glad about, when you spotted the man at the end of the bar, alone, but watching you work behind the bar. With a duck of your head and a half smile, you wiped your hands on a dish towel, slinging it over your shoulder as you moved towards him.

“You are a strange face in a familiar place. Can I help ya with something?” you asked, as he chuckled, sipping his bottle.

“I was thinking about another beer…and seeing if I can get you to drink with me.” You chuckled this time, blushing a little.

“Handsome and smooth. But I’m working, baby, can’t drink. I can, though, get you one,” you replied, moving to grab another beer. You turned back, after a second, to see him staring again, and you cocked your head. “What?”

“Nothing, just…you look pretty hot in plaid.” You glanced down at yourself, in jeans and an undershirt with an plaid button up open over the top of it, before looking at him, and smirking when you realized he was wearing plaid, too.

“Me? You have seen yourself, right sugar?” The man grinned, taking the bottle offered, before sticking out his hand.

“I’m Dean.”

“Y/N,” you smiled, shaking his warm hand.


	5. Castiel {Destiel} + “You look pretty hot in plaid.”

               Dean rubbed his hands over his face, sighing, as he sipped his beer, and returned to flipping the burgers on the grill. Sam was putting things on the table – plates, condiments, drinks – while Cas was getting ready down the hall. It wasn’t a big meal, but Dean elected to grill up something good to celebrate Cas being home again.

“He’s taking a long time, man, did he have to  _make_  his clothes?” Dean huffed, moving to put his bottle on the table. Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“He’s acclimating. Just shut up and grill.”

“’ey, Cas! C’mon, man, food’s ready!” Dean hollered, serving the burgers up onto a plate, and moving to set them on the table. Like clockwork, the second the plate hit the table, Cas shuffled in, and Dean stopped, eyes lifting to see the angel in jeans, a t-shirt, and one of the overshirts that he clearly snagged from Dean’s closet.

“Sorry, Dean. Thank you, for making dinner.”

               It took him until he was finding his seat at the table to realize Dean was still staring, and he ducked is head, frowning, looking down.

“…what’s wrong, Dean?”

“Hm? Oh. Nothing,” Dean replied, shaking his head. “Just. You look pretty hot in plaid.”

               Sam dropped his bottle, the sound thumping across the table as he struggled to catch it and fight the surprise on his face, as Dean snickered, and rolling his eyes.

“Buck up, Sammy, and serve it up.”

“…I’m actually quite comfortable in the plaid…I don’t feel as though my temperature has gone up at all,” Cas said, slow and confused, and Sam groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m gonna go eat in my room,” he huffed, quickly dishing food onto his plate before he could hear Dean try coming onto Cas again.


	6. Dean Winchester x Reader + “Snow ball fight!”

             The warmth of your breath smoked and curled around your face as you exhaled, and you furrowed your brow, glancing down at your feet.

“God damn it.”

“Problem?” Dean called from the other room, as you peered back into the motel room.

“It snowed!”

“God damn it.” You snorted, tugging your jacket tighter around your frame, as he slid up behind you, bag over his shoulder, ready to reload the car.

               Sure enough, the ground around the car, around the building, was covered in a thick layer of white powder. Dean hesitated, sighing, before shaking his head.

“Well, too bad. We got a monster hunt to get to,” he replied, shifting around you, and crunching towards the car. “At least it’s not slick.”

“Good.” You turned, peering back into the room to be sure you two had everything, and stepping back in to check the bathroom, before you stepped out and pulled the door shut.

“Snow ball fight!” You barely registered the voice before a sharp, cold ball slammed into your neck, and you squealed, leaping, and spinning, to see Dean cackling by the car.

“You fucker!” you howled, charging at him, as he leapt, dumping things in the trunk and slamming it shut as he bolted away from you. “get back here!”

“Snow ball fight is not physical!” he hollered over his shoulder. It was so juvenile and stupid, but it was nice, in the midst of hunting monsters and killing evil, to do something so…free.


	7. Dean Winchester x Reader + “Would you, um…maybe want to get coffee?”

_*This drabble is set after John went missing, before Dean went to get Sam. So. Pre-Season 1. HE WAS JUST A FETUS, JFC.*_

 

               The bar was loud as you and Dean walked by it. He wasn’t big on trusting other hunters, really, at least not ones he didn’t know, but you were just as confident and cocky as he was, and it made him feel better about the idea of it. He was working a case, while John was gone, something simple – come on, nothing easier than getting rid of a ghost – but he had needed a second person to distract the guard at the cemetery.

               Now that the job was done, the two of you were heading back across town to your building, where he’d left his car, the sound of your laughter echoing down the dark road as he told you about a few ridiculous cases they’d done. He glanced over at you, his hands tucked deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, and smiled. You definitely didn’t look like you’d just helped him desecrate a grave in order to get rid of a spirit.

“Let me tell you my favorite. About. Eight years ago, I was helping a friend get rid of a ghost, right, she was on and on and on about how she was getting haunted by this thing, and it was keeping her up and making noise and just…standard, right?” you told him, fighting the dumb grin as you two turned the corner.

“Sounds like it.”

“Right. So I get there, and I coax as much out of her as possible, and I’m looking around the house…and guess what?”

“…I have no idea,” he replied, but he grinned, curious.

“The sounds she was hearing? The crashing, the moans, the  _ghost sounds_? They were from the  _neighbor_. My friend had a small attic, and the window was open – which she didn’t know there  _was_  a window – but it was near the bedroom window of her neighbor, who was having  _wild and crazy sex_  at the same time, every night.”

               Dean tossed his head back in a boisterous laugh, clapping as he bounced to catch up to you.

“Holy shit!”

“It was  _the best_! It took me ten minutes to catch my breath before I could tell her!”

               Even with how hard he laughed, he could still hear you laughing, and once you two calmed down, you glanced up, realizing you were at your building.

“Hey,” he huffed, before you could say anything, and you turned, brow quirked.

“Hm?”

“Would you, um…maybe…want to get coffee? …with me?” Dean asked, pointing a little down the road to the diner sign that was still glowing. You blushed, surprised, before you grinned, and shrugged.

“…yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”


	8. Dean Winchester x Reader + “Your lips are warm.”

              You hummed as you finished wiping down the bar, pausing as Dean ducked inside and brushed the snow from his hair.

“You do know I’m closed.”

“I do,” he answered, stomping the snow off his boots, before turning to see you with a grin. “But it’s flurries out there, and I’m not waiting for you out there. Come on.” You huffed, smiling.

“I have to finish cleaning up, unless you wanna put the chairs up on the tables to help.”

               Despite the overdramatic groan he sounded, Dean did smile, and put the chairs on the tables as you finished cleaning up behind the bar, and shutting down.

               When you finally finished, you pulled your jacket on over your shoulders, pushing your hair up and out as you moved to meet up with Dean at the door. He waited for you to tug on your gloves before opening the door, and followed you out, watching you lock up before you turned to look at the falling snow, with a smile.

“Ready?”

“Almost,” you replied, tucking the keys away safely, before leaning up to kiss him, hands cupping his jaw. Dean smiled into it a little more, before carefully moving back.

“…your lips are warm.”

“They better be, I’ve been inside for six hours. Come on, stud, you owe me dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	9. Dean Winchester x Reader + “I thought we weren’t doing gifts!”

             You hated Christmas when you were a kid. You’d gotten better in the years since you got away from home, but you were still finnicky. So when you started hunting with the Winchesters, you were happy – decorations were OK, and decorations happened, but gifts were off the table. It was just standard, they didn’t give you things, you didn’t give them things. Technically you did, at other points throughout the year, but for this holiday?

               Nothing.

               So you were sure you couldn’t be blamed for the startled expression when Dean thrust a gift into your hands as Sam made cocoa in the kitchen. You looked at it like it was a monster, before putting it on the table, struggling to find something to say.

“…I thought we weren’t doing gifts!” It wasn’t what you meant, but, that’s what came out, and you instantly shook your head at Dean’s confused expression. “No, I just…I meant…we never do gifts for Christmas, I just…thought…we weren’t doing gifts. I don’t…I don’t have anything for you.” Dean scoffed, shaking his head, and waving it off, though you could still see that slight hurt in his eyes.

“It’s not a gift. It’s protection.” You wanted to make a joke, but, instead, you bit your tongue, opening the box to reveal a new pistol, which made you sigh, and chuckle, and look over at him.

“…thank you…”

               Shit, if things didn’t feel weird then, because you knew Dean had expected something, even after all these years of not doing gifts. And you should have gotten him something, this was  _Dean_ , he’d have taken a box of ammo, to be honest, and you knew it.

               After a few seconds of just looking at him, you hopped out of your chair, and stepped towards his, peering down at him as you cleared your throat. With a small huff, you leaned down, pressing a quick, but sweet, kiss to his lips, forcing yourself to pull away when you felt his hand on your cheek.

“…merry Christmas, Dean.”

“…merry Christmas, Y/N.”


	10. Dean Winchester  x Reader + “I’m sick.”

   The sound of coughing was loud through the otherwise quiet bunker, and you sighed, glancing over your shoulder as you poured the hot water into the mug in your hand. The coughing subsided for a few seconds, before it started up again, but this time you chuckled, putting the kettle down and leaving the kitchen.

“Dean?”

“Huh?” he called backed, pausing coughing just long enough for the sound to come out. You fought a smile, and turned down the hall towards his room, pausing as you stepped into the doorway. He was curled up, bundled in two blankets, propped up on a few pillows, his computer playing as it rested on the end of the bed.

“You sound awful.”

“I’m sick,” he huffed, but you knew better. Sure, he had a cough, but nothing like he was making it sound. But you cooed at him, shuffling over and setting the cup down on the nightstand.

“Then drink that and sleep. You’ll feel better.” He frowned, looking at the steaming cup, “It’s tea, not poison.”

“I don’t know that.”

“Dean, it’s to help you sleep.” When she still didn’t move, you huffed, and reached down, hand light over his head. “WHat would help?”

“…can you stay in here?” That sly little shit, despite his best efforts, you could see the little smirk on his lips, and you chuckled, shaking your head.

“You finish that tea, and I will come back and lay with you while you sleep.” For a sick man, he moved really fast to down the tea, before putting the empty cup down, and pulling you down on the bed as you squawked. “Sick my ass.”

“I’m sick of lyin’ here alone,” he countered, grinning as you laughed, and curled up against him.

“Shut up and sleep or I’m going back out there.” That was not going to happen, his arm curling tight around your waist and his legs locking around yours. But you weren’t complaining.


	11. Dean x Reader - "You can have my jacket."

“This fucking sucks.” Dean snorted, glancing at you. 

“What, huntin’ a spirit?” You jabbed your elbow sharply into his side, scowling.

“No, dick, this is normal.  _This_ ,” you grumbled, pointing up at the sky as the rain fell on your head. “Goin’ around town in the fuckin’  _rain_. And it’s not fun rain, either, okay, it’s  _cold_.” Dean snickered, shaking his head, but just as he did, the wind rushed by. Seriously, Dean was fine, but he knew you were cold, with the way you shivered, and stuffed your hands into your pockets.

      Clearing his throat, Dean shrugged his jacket off, humming.

“Here…you can have my jacket.”

“What?” you asked, surprised, as the warm leather circled your shoulders.

“I’m fine, but you’re cold.” You wanted to object, but he quirked a brow at you, and, blushing, you tucked your arms through the sleeves, before shifting a little closer, hugging him carefully.

“Thank you, Dean.”

 


End file.
